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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29281500">When We Were Young</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/chamibii/pseuds/chamibii'>chamibii</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SK8 the Infinity (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Childhood Friends to Lovers, College AU, Denial of Feelings, Eventual Smut, Frottage, Joe is like a labradoodle, M/M, Masturbation, MatchaBlossom, Oral Sex, POV switch, a sprinkle of promiscuity, exploration of sexual identity, frat shenanigans, loss of virginity (kind of), they both switch, tsundere Cherry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:48:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,631</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29281500</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/chamibii/pseuds/chamibii</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>At 14, never having been kissed leaves Cherry feeling as if he's at a disadvantage and not enjoying his youth. He lets this slip to Joe, who leans in to kiss him, planting the seed of confusing feelings that only sprout to wither and die when Cherry learns that his best friend is moving away. </p><p>Or so he thought...</p><p>Six years later, he's in college and struggling with his identity. He begrudgingly attends a frat party and who does he happen to run into? No one other than Nanjo Kojiro, his first kiss and best friend. </p><p>Joe spends the past six years dwelling on something that he's sure meant nothing to Cherry Blossom. Why would it? They were kids, right? It didn't mean anything. </p><p>If that's the case, why has he held onto this mysterious letter for the past six years? </p><p>Can these two navigate college and the challenges it brings as they also explore their sexual identity, rekindle a friendship, and quite possibly fan the flames of a budding romance?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nanjo Kojiro | Joe/Sakurayashiki Kaoru | Cherry Blossom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>308</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>MatchaBlossom brain rot. </p><p>The college experiences are based on American college.</p><p>Also, if how I describe Cherry's denial of his sexuality is offensive to anyone, I apologize. That's not my intent. I'm pulling from my own personal experiences as I write this here. Y'know, projection and what not. </p><p>I hope you guys enjoy! </p><p>Oh... also, this was originally started as a thread on twitter, so I apologize for any weird formatting issues.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>One day after school, Cherry spies Joe kissing a girl by the vending machines. This unsettles him for a short while, and on their walk home, he allows his brooding to get the best of him. However, Joe never gives him more than five minutes of peace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you so quiet for?” Joe asks as he bumps Cherry’s shoulder with his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s embarrassing for the young teen to admit, but he does anyways, stating with a straight face and his jaw jutted forward slightly, “I've never been kissed.” They’re in middle school now. It isn’t that odd for him to not have been kissed by now, right? A heavy silence falls between them the rest of the way home and when they arrive at Cherry’s house, he turns to say goodbye, but Joe is </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span> there. In his space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leans down, moving in quickly to kiss Cherry and happily chirps, “Now you’ve been kissed! See you tomorrow!” He trots next door, waving goodbye over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry stares after him, dumbfounded and unsure of what to do or say. He goes inside, thoroughly confused. He wasn’t expecting his first kiss to be from Kojiro, his best friend and neighbor, of </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span> people. The next day is awkward, to say the least. Every time Joe looks at him, he blushes a fiery red. He hates it. After a few days of avoiding the topic, Cherry finally decides to bring it up, but Joe stops him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have something to say first. And then you can tell me, ‘k?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re sitting in Joe’s room, supposedly working on homework, which means Joe is playing video games while ignoring Cherry fussing at him for not doing his homework. Cherry puts down his pen and turns in his seat. “What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe’s expression is…off. His eyes don’t shine with mischief like they usually do. They’re red rimmed and darkened by sadness. He doesn’t hold Cherry’s gaze, instead he stares at his hands. His voice is soft when he says, “We’re moving.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry imagines this is what it feels like to have the wind knocked out of you because he’s telling himself to breathe, but his lungs won’t expand properly. How can his best friend, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>only </span>
  </em>
  <span>person that calls him ‘Cherry Blossom’ based on his name, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>only </span>
  </em>
  <span>person that willingly punches people for him, no questions asked, leave?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Cherry definitively states. “You’re not.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have a choice Cherry…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell your parents you’re staying with us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a matter of can’t. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe’s voice is forceful and biting as he snaps, “Stop acting like a fucking a child! I can’t! We’re leaving tomorrow.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe Cherry’s already hurt at the prospect of his friend leaving so suddenly, but he doesn’t acknowledge that as the reason when he hastily grabs his study materials and quickly walks out of the room, ignoring Joe calling after him. He ignores the little pebbles thrown at his window that night too. He rolls over in bed and pretends to be asleep, ignoring Joe’s raspy whisper of “Yo Cherry? I know you’re awake.” He ignores his parents the next morning when they ask,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not going to say goodbye to Kojiro? You’ll regret it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the last second, he changes his mind. He runs outside yelling, “Joe! Wait!” but it’s too late. The family is all packed up and pulling away from the curb. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe turns in his seat and upon spying Cherry, his face breaks into the largest, yet saddest grin, and he lifts a hand to wave goodbye. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>SIX YEARS LATER</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Try as he might, Cherry can’t focus on the current task at hand. He knows his mind is wandering and that can’t be good. He refocuses, closing his eyes and sucking in a slow breath through his nostrils. When he opens them again, he realizes the woman on top of him is none the wiser, hardly paying him any mind as her hips rise and fall in long, languid strokes. She feels good--warm, wet, tight--but he’s not into tonight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Truth be told, he hasn’t been into “it” in a while. He goes through the motions, because isn’t that what he’s supposed to do at 20? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he feels her walls tighten around him and her hips stutter, he pounces on the opportunity to end this and fakes an orgasm. His performance is worthy of an award and if he wasn’t trying to be cognizant of her feelings, he would have laughed at how ridiculous he sounds as he “finishes”. She buys it though, and that’s all that matters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna study for bio?” She asks as she pulls on her top and fastens her jeans. “We have that test coming up soon and I can really use the help.” She flashes a bright smile, one that shouts, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I just fucked you so you’re obligated to help me.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Fortunately for Cherry, unfortunately for her, he is not easily swayed by feelings of obligation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dismisses her with a cool, “No. I’ll see you in class.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s huffy as she snatches her book bag from the desk and stomps from his dorm room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He disposes of the condom, dresses, and changes the sheets, grateful to be rid of the cloyingly sweet perfume she must have bathed in. He sighs, shoulders sagging under the weight of his frustration as he notices his still hard dick.  He’s often left unfulfilled from sexual encounters. He’s grown accustomed to having to meet his own needs after his partners leave. There’s a part of him that thinks maybe he’s broken. He’s away at uni, he’s young, he’s attractive (that’s an undeniable fact, not conceit), and yet only a handful of women have brought him to an orgasm. He’s frustrated--sexually and with himself--and he wants a resolution to whatever issue is going on with his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sits down at his desk and Googles, again, “Is it normal to have a low libido at 20 years old?” Articles from doctors and online forums populate first, every link already clicked on and read through multiple times before. He’s been to his doctor. He’s discussed his concerns. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The answer has always been, “Stress. Do something to relax.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How can he relax when he’s worried about having a low sex drive?! If he doesn’t have the urge at 20, what will happen when he’s 30?! And 40?! </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Do something to relax.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>What relaxes someone who’s sexually frustrated? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He halfheartedly wants to Google that question, but he already knows the answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Masturbate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He does that frequently. Probably more than he should, but when he’s left with a hard dick and the overwhelming desire to cum, and no one can get him there, what’s he supposed to do? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not fond of the mess, he reaches for a condom and rolls it on, before clicking over to “incognito mode” on his browser.  There are a few sites he frequents often, but there’s only one video that will have his eyes rolling back in his head and his seed quickly filling up the prophylactic. His stomach tightens and his mind races as he tries to fight off the thought of, “You only like this video because the actor looks like…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He likes the video because the actor is gentle yet somehow still fucks the other man like he hates him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, there’s nothing wrong with watching and getting off to gay porn, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sex is sex. Doesn’t matter the body parts. The end result is the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He fast forwards to the beginning of his favorite part. The man who is not being penetrated (he’s not familiar with the “clinical” terms) has the lucky bastard who is pinned against the wall with his legs thrown over wide shoulders. He always watches with the volume off because the fake moans and groans kill the fantasy for him. His dick hardens more, slowly at first, but the minute the camera angle changes and he sees the thick cock easing inside of the other actor, he becomes dizzyingly aroused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His fingers flex around his dick, the grip light as he moves them from just under his head to the base of his shaft. He exhales a shaking breath as his pleasure builds. He wonders what the man is actually saying to his partner, because the guy’s head is nodding rapidly and Cherry can’t imagine that there’s anything this man can say that would warrant that emphatic display of eagerness. He raises the volume and almost shoots his load when he hears, in a deep, silken voice, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You wanna be a good boy for me? You wanna cum on my cock, don’t you?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The muscles in his jaw clench almost painfully as he grits his teeth and hisses a low, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh fuuuuck.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hand adopts a mind of its own, speeding up when the actor does and slowing down as well in order to match his pace. He’s so lost in the moment that he begins to answer the man. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Does it feel good baby?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His hips buck up into his hand. He nods just as emphatically as the other actor as he whines out a, “Yes, fuck. So good.” His stomach tightens and flutters as heat builds in his lower abdomen. He closes his eyes, letting his imagination run rampant. It’s him who’s pinned to the wall.  Him who’s being fucked hard and slow. Him who’s wetly kissing the actor and begging to be filled with his cum. And the green haired one? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His cock pulsates, throbbing hard as he imagines what Joe would look like now. He spills inside the condom to the whispered praises of, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Such a good boy for me. You did so good love.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> His breathing is rapid, the edges frayed and raw as he comes down. He ends the video, exits completely out of incognito mode, and ties off the condom, tossing it in the trash. As the oyxtocin and serotonin return to normal levels, the embarrassment settles in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s pathetic, isn’t he?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe kissed him </span>
  <em>
    <span>once</span>
  </em>
  <span> when they were young, he hasn’t seen the guy in 6 years, and yet as soon as an image of what Cherry </span>
  <em>
    <span>hopes</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’d look like pops into his mind, he’s nutting faster than an adolescent who discovers their mom’s lingerie catalogue for the first time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He groans loudly as his head falls forward onto the desk. Aside from his libido, he now has to deal with the fact that he gets off to his childhood friend. And the fact that he can only really get off to gay porn. He wonders what Google would say if he asked, “What does it mean when you can only get off to gay porn?” His phone vibrates, thankfully distracting him from his spiral into parts of his psyche that he’s not quite ready to explore.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Adam: It’s Friday and I know you’re studying. Alone&gt;&gt;</b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Cherry: I wasn’t alone thirty minutes ago&gt;&gt; </b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Adam: Girl from bio?&gt;&gt; </b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Cherry: Maybe. What do you want?&gt;&gt; </b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Adam: I’m crossing over tonight. Come get fucked up with me&gt;&gt; </b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Cherry: How you’re able to drink like a fish from sun up Friday to sun down Sunday, maintain an excellent GPA, pledge, and still be your family’s pride and joy as you fuck your way through the men and women on campus is a feat I wish to understand&gt;&gt; </b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Adam: Is that a yes?&gt;&gt; </b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Cherry: As long as the girl from bio isn’t there, yes&gt;&gt; </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Within the hour, he’s dressed in skin tight black denim, a short sleeved soft pink shirt with the front tucked into the waist of his jeans and the top three buttons undone to show the little tattoo of falling cherry blossoms on his clavicle, and his long hair tied back into a neat ponytail. He slips on black boots at the door and locks up his room to follow the crowd of excited students as they move, like drunken cattle, to the frat house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can feel the music in his chest before he even sees the house of Sigma Kappa Alpha. Bass seems to rumble the sidewalk and make the nearby trees dance in tremble in sync with the music. Bright colorful lights break up the darkness as they strobe to their own rhythm. He pushes past the crowd, golden eyes scanning for Adam and when he sees his (begrudgingly acknowledged) friend, he can’t help but shake his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam is...flamboyant...to say the least. His blue hair, that’s usually styled in a neat pompadour, is loose and free, which is a nice change of pace, but the fucking half mask that complete with gold and resplendent rhinestones that just so happens to match with his bright red leather outfit? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>a lot</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cherry!” Adam yells, waving wildly. He jogs over to Cherry, who’s contemplating ignoring him and leaving. “Glad you could make it! I am your only friend, so I guess there’s not much of a choice.” He throws an arm over Cherry’s shoulder and steers him into the frat house. Shouts of </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Chug! Chug! Chug!” </span>
  </em>
  <span> and plenty of shit talking over an intense game of beer pong, greet them. “Beer is out back, drugs up front, girls upstairs, and if you’re finally admitting it, boys all over,” Adam sweeps his arms out as he smiles widely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry blinks up at him, silent and stoic, before walking away to the backyard. The shouts are louder out here and he finds out why as he searches for the keg. Four men are struggling to support their frat brother as he wobbles in a keg stand. The onlookers are counting loudly, “55, 56, 57, 58…” When they get to 60, the big lug guzzling down beer like it’s water, gets visibly excited and starts choking. His friends help him to get right side up. His laugh is boisterous and infectious as he muses aloud, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ahh man! I was so close to beating the SKA record!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry pushes past the crowd to get to the keg. He reaches for the pump when his cup is taken from his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got it dude.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry freezes. That voice…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slowly straightens up, his eyes traveling the expanse of thick, muscular thighs clad in denim, briefly lingering on the hip piercings that flash brightly against tanned skin, moving up to abs that are more defined than any relationship he could hope to have, honing in on golden barbells that are nestled through perky nipples, before skating over to look at a stupid ass tattoo of a sun on a shoulder, to finally rest on deep honey brown eyes that seem almost red under the lights in the backyard. His brow crinkles and an eyebrow arches as he asks in disbelief, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Joe?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s my name. Don’t wear it ou--holy shit. No fucking way!” Recognition dawns in Joe’s eyes and he shouts, “CHERRY BLOSSOM?!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now while Adam </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> call him “Cherry”, he’s always told his flamboyant friend it was a family nickname. No one has ever called him “Cherry Blossom”, but Joe. It’s kind of embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as Cherry realizing his mouth is hanging open as he gapes up at Joe. And definitely not as embarrassing as the first thought that crosses his mind (</span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s even hotter than I imagined</span>
  </em>
  <span>). But he doesn’t have time to dwell on that before he’s being pulled into a bone crushing hug and Joe is vacillating between saying, “What are the odds?” and asking rapid fire questions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Cherry finally squeaks out, “Can’t breathe,” Joe eases up and smiles down at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t seen you since we were young! Holy hell man. How long has it been?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Six years.” Cherry straightens his rumpled shirt and adds, “I think.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam appears seemingly out of thin air to ask, with a dumb ass smirk on his face, “You to know each other?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Knew,” Cherry corrects. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When we were young, this guy here was my best friend </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> my first kiss,” he winks at Cherry, whose complexion is now conveniently matching his shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ohohoho, first kiss?” Adam’s grin grows wider. “Do tell boys.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck off,” Cherry mumbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Joe, over-eager, labradoodle-esque Joe, loudly proclaims, “I kissed him ‘cause he was like 14 and hadn’t been kissed yet, right dude? Man when we were young we got into so much shit!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry can feel Adam’s eyes boring a hole into the side of his face. “If by ‘so much shit’ you mean I forced you to do homework, then yes. We did.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam moves in closer, sandwiching himself between Cherry and Joe as he wraps an arm around both their waists. “And what was ‘homework’ code for?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe’s eyes narrow and his head titles to the right. “Huh?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry elbows Adam in the stomach and hisses, “Shut up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you ‘force’ him to do homework again?” Adam drawls, “And if so, can I watch? I promise I’ll be quiet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would anyone want to watch us do homework?” Joe sounds completely baffled. Cherry and Adam both stare at him, mouths open in disbelief at his sheer stupidity, until Joe laughs loudly, “Just fuckin’ with ya!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh thank god, I was afraid your muscles slowed oxygen getting to your brain. Not that I’m complaining,” Adam drawls, a smirk curling up the corner of his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry feels...bothered...yeah, bothered...as he watches Adam openly first with Joe. He clears his throat loudly, interrupting Adam’s asinine story about something no one truly cares about to ask Joe, “You attend school here?” And immediately Cherry wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. Especially when Adam looks at him, one eyebrow cocked as if to say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Are you stupid?”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Apparently I am.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I transferred at the beginning of this school year. What about you?” He hands Cherry a cup of ice cold beer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry forgot about the beer to be honest. He’s been wholly distracted by trying to ignore Adam’s exaggerated expressions (the man’s eyebrows are more animated than a teenage girl who speaks with her hands) and trying to figure out where to actually look when he speaks to Joe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s not a major height difference between the two, which Cherry is kind of thankful for. Growing up, Cherry was often teased for being “delicate” and “pretty, like a girl”. The fact that he was heads shorter than most of the boys in his class until his last year of high school, added to the illusion that he was soft and fragile. Even Joe would jokingly tease him every once in a while by using his head as an armrest. A few inches of a height difference results in Cherry either staring directly at Joe’s mouth or tilting his chin up </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> a bit to look in Joe’s eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Let’s be honest here though, the lights in the backyard, harsh yellow ones that they are, reflect on Joe’s body jewelry and Cherry is rationalizing his inability to look away from large, full, pierced pecs as, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>They’re shiny. Of course they draw my attention.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet, Adam’s voice is thin in his ear, pointing out the obvious that doesn’t seem so obvious to Cherry, “He looks amazing, doesn’t he?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His guard is down, half of it eliminated thanks to him draining his cup rather quickly, so Cherry doesn’t think twice about it and blurts out, a little loudly, “Yeah he does.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe stops mid sentence to ask, “Who does what?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Cherry echoes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe’s eyes narrow as they flicker between Adam and Cherry. “Never mind...anyways!” He claps his hands together, a broad grin returning to his face. “Want a tour of the bro-tel?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Cherry recoils a bit, ‘Did you just call this house, your place of residence, a ‘bro-tel’?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe grabs Cherry’s wrist and tugs him forward. “It’s great right? I’m hoping it catches on soon.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great wasn’t the word I had in mind, but whatever,” Cherry mumbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully Joe either doesn’t hear him over the music or ignores him, because he continues talking about the frat as he drags Cherry through a crowded living room and up the stairs. Unfortunately for Cherry, the music wasn’t loud enough to </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>hear Adam’s annoying ass wolf whistle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Joe finishes yanking Cherry from room to room (“This is big brother </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lady Killer</span>
  </em>
  <span>’s room and this is big brother </span>
  <em>
    <span> I dick down anything with a pulse</span>
  </em>
  <span>’s room”. Okay, those weren’t the names, but Cherry knows they have stupid ass names like that) his cheeks are flushed and he’s slightly out of breath. And no, it's not because he’s anxious about being alone with Joe. In his surprisingly neat room. That actually smells good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door closes behind them and before Cherry can even turn around to say something, anything, Joe asks, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you come say goodbye?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And suddenly Cherry is 14 years old again and the emotions are too much for him to handle. And he hates feeling overwhelmed and not in control of himself, so he scrambles to regain control by putting it back on Joe. “Why didn’t you?” He crosses his arms over his chest, right foot slightly in front of his left as it taps out an agitated beat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude I came to your window like four times that night.” Joe refutes the accusation. “I even sat--you know what? Never mind,”Joe waves his hand, pushing aside the past as he drops down onto his bed. The tips of ears are a bright red, standing out in a fiery contrast from his green hair and tanned complexion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry, despite being shit at managing and identifying his own emotions, is great at picking up on others emotions. He sighs loudly, laboriously even, as he sits next to Joe. “What?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just...I was really sad I didn’t get a chance to give you something,” Joe says softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What could you possibly have wanted to give me that </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> has you teary eyed six years later, Kojiro?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe hops up and crosses the room quickly, humming as he scans a bookshelf. He selects a leather bound book that looks worn and well-read and pulls out a dog eared envelope. “Here.” He places it in Cherry’s hands just as the door to his room is thrown open. Some large man with his face painted in clown makeup, literally lets out a battle cry and rushes forward to throw Joe over his shoulder, shouting, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“TIME TO CROSS THE LINE PLEDGE!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“SERIOUSLY?!” Joe’s voice cracks from excitement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry slips the envelope in his pocket and with a roll of his eyes, he pushes up from the bed to follow the men downstairs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ceremony is surprisingly heartfelt? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Each “big brother” shares an anecdote of a pledge before pinning the frats insignia on whatever remaining clothing they have on. Afterwards, someone else lets loose another battle cry, the music is turned up even louder, and the sweaty bodies that were still are in motion, undulating and gyrating to a song Cherry can care less about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hates parties. The noise, the awkward social interactions, and the fact that someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> touches him, is enough to make him feel physically drained at just the mere thought of attending. When he’s actually at a party, he lasts about twenty minutes before he’s dead tired and needing to escape. He’s about 60 minutes beyond his limit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s looking for Adam, hoping to have a quick goodbye and leave, when a palm comes to rest on the small of his back. Breath fans out across the nape of his neck and ear as Joe asks, in a low deep voice, one that has Cherry’s mind flashing back to the actor from earlier, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna dance?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mouth runs dry as he nods, his head jerking forward awkwardly. The hand on his back circles around to his hips, fingers flexing in a soft squeeze, as he’s led to the middle of the makeshift dance floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it’s the beer that’s sloshing heavily in his empty stomach, or the lights, or the excitement at being around his childhood best friend again, or the way Joe’s smile is soft as he keeps a grip on one of Cherry’s hips. Whatever it is, he finds himself letting go little by little and soon he’s moving freely, the music taking hold of him in ways it hasn’t in a long time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry is a great dancer. He’s in full control of his body and he knows he moves fluidly and gracefully. He isn’t expecting Joe to keep up with him, the other matching his rhythm effortlessly. The song changes, slowing down entirely and Cherry takes that as his cue to say his goodbyes. His lips part, but Joe shakes his head and reaches for his wrist, pulling him in close. </span>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“You owe me for not saying goodbye six years ago.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry relents, giving in to being maneuvered by Joe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sway together, enough distance to fit all of their baggage from the past between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you and Adam?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand the question,” Cherry feigns ignorance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remember that deep dive exploration into his psyche? A house party is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> the place to do it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You two aren’t...y’know?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re friends, if that’s what you’re asking.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe’s arm snakes around Cherry’s waist and he’s pulled in closer. “Good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not my type,” Cherry points out truthfully. He doesn’t know what his type is. He usually sleeps with whichever woman shows a bit of interest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or, rather, he tries. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Low libido and what not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully the music's loud enough for him to pretend that he doesn’t hear Joe when he asks what his type is. The song ends and before he can be roped into another dance, he’s pushing away from Joe, yelling over his shoulder, “Tell Adam I’ll text him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He speed walks through the throng of sweaty bodies and bursts out into cool night air. His skin is hot to the touch. His fingers trail along the back of his neck and ghost over his earlobe as he shivers from the recollection of Joe’s close proximity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s stupid. He’s just happy to see his friend. That’s it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing else,” he tells himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He repeats this phrase in mind, using it as a tool to have the lingering thoughts of the warmth from Joe’s hand searing and branding his skin with the memory of it, to a screeching halt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the beer. That’s it,” he yawns loudly as he opens the door to his dorm room and tosses the keys on the table. He toes out of his boots and strips down to his boxer briefs to climb between the covers. The letter is forgotten as he falls into a sleep that’s fraught with memories of his childhood with Joe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His phone buzzes once, twice, three times, and he sleeps through each notification. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Unknown Number: Hey, it’s Joe. Adam gave me your number.&gt;&gt;</b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Unknown Number: Not that I asked or anything. He just said it would be good for us to reconnect. Which I agree.&gt;&gt;</b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Unknown Number: Okay, I lied. I did ask. I’ve missed you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for the past six years. It was great seeing you. I hope to see you again. Soon.&gt;&gt;</b>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Joe arches a brow, but his face settles into a soft grin. He rubs a hand along the back of his neck as a light pink blush glows under the apples of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. “I, uh, wrote you a letter the same day I told you I was leaving. I planned to give it to you when you came to say goodbye the next day. But you never came.” He shrugs. “Not until it was too late. So I held onto it. I don’t know why. I just did.” </p><p>“What did it say?” Cherry cautiously asks. </p><p>Joe’s cheeks puff out as he huffs a nervous sigh. He drags a hand through his wavy hair, lowering his eyes to the floor as he mumbles, “It’s kind of a love letter.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So for this chapter I randomly decided that Adam would be the perfect cam-boy. And now I really, really want to write that xD</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Cherry’s head feels as if it’s being squeezed in a vice grip. He pushes his face deeper into his pillow, moaning as his temples throb. This is what he gets for A: Drinking on an empty stomach and B: Drinking. He’s an extreme lightweight, he knows he is, and yet whenever he gets around Adam, he can’t seem to keep himself from drinking well beyond his limits. To be quite fucking truthful, it wasn’t just because he was around Adam. He groans loudly, a little too loudly, his throbbing temples complain, as he recalls </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> about last night. Seeing Joe for the first time in 6 years, immediately thinking ‘oh fuck, he’s hot’, dancing with him, the way those hands felt on his body… </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We interrupt the regularly scheduled program to check in with Kaoru’s psyche. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s sexually attracted to </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> women. That’s a given. He finds Adam attractive in an avant garde, “is it the fear of potentially being killed during rough sex that’s giving me a boner or the fact that he’s actually hot” kind of way. Sure, there’s been a few men around campus that he’s found attractive, but Cherry can appreciate beauty no matter how it’s packaged. He can admit that Joe is a beautiful man; he’s tall, muscular, tan, great smile, amazing legs, plush chest, body piercings, tattoos, large hands...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry rolls over onto his back, making a low sound in his throat. Joe </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> attractive. And if Cherry had to be honest, which 99% of the time he’s honest with himself, he kind of, maybe, sort of had what </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> would describe as a “crush” on Joe when they were young. But isn’t it common to confuse admiration for a friend with romantic feelings? He’s pretty sure he read that somewhere. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he was young, he did admire Kojiro. He was always athletic, being picked first and often being fought over when they had to do gym in school. He was, Cherry begrudgingly admits, smart and often placed in the top 10 of their year. He knew everyone, thanks to being extremely friendly and easy going, but the attribute that Cherry admired the most, was how loyal Joe was to those he called friends. It didn’t matter how long he knew someone, once they were his friend, Kojiro defended them when it was necessary. He never hesitated to stand up for his friends even if it meant that he ran the risk of getting into a fight. Inevitably, he would, and the majority of the fights he got into were because of Cherry. Cherry was a quiet child. He was small for his age for quite some time, which meant that others believed he was an easy target. They taunted him, pushing him closer and closer to his breaking point, and when he snapped, destroying them verbally, they would escalate physically. He was able to hold his own when he was younger, but when he reached middle school and everyone </span>
  <em>
    <span>but</span>
  </em>
  <span> him had a growth spurt, that’s when he had issues. But, he also had Joe and any time someone even dared to </span>
  <em>
    <span>look</span>
  </em>
  <span> at Cherry with disdain, Joe was there in an instant, taking off his gakuran and bunching up his fists, ready to beat the shit out of whoever was trying to start something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, excuse the fuck out of Cherry if </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>of these feelings came rushing back the minute he saw his old best friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But, what about the porn? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He scrubs a hand down his face and curses himself out. How dare he bring up the porn while he’s rationalizing, and therefore dismissing, his romantic and sexual attraction of the man as feelings of admiration! He’s not necessarily sexually attracted to Joe per se. Maybe just the thought of him? Maybe it was because of the kiss, which technically he didn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>ask</span>
  </em>
  <span> for. He just simply told Joe he’s never been kissed and the bastard leaned in and did it. Without his consent. So, Cherry hasn’t hyper-focused on the kiss for the past 6 years because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants </span>
  </em>
  <span>to. He hyper-focused on it because he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>angry</span>
  </em>
  <span> that he was robbed of the opportunity to have a real first kiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s it! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reaches for his phone, wanting to find Joe on social media in order to tell him off, but he stops short of scrolling to any other app when he notices the messages on his screen. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Unknown Number: Hey, it’s Joe. Adam gave me your number.&gt;&gt;</b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Unknown Number: Not that I asked or anything. He just said it would be good for us to reconnect. Which I agree.&gt;&gt;</b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Unknown Number: Okay, I lied. I did ask. I’ve missed you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for the past six years. It was great seeing you. I hope to see you again. Soon.&gt;&gt;</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This makes for an interesting turn of events…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him for the past six years. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He winces as his heart palpitates. He presses the heel of his palm into his chest, digging in to hopefully massage his heart back to it’s normal rhythm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Indigestion. He’ll have to see if he has antacids somewhere around here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sends a quick text and tosses his phone on the bed next to him. His mind races with a thousand and one thoughts, each one similar in nature-- </span>
  <em>
    <span>What does it mean if I like him? I also like women. Actually, I just like people in general as long as they’re kind and I find them attractive. Why can’t I stop thinking about this? Is it even important to label myself? Do I want a label? What if I change my mind or what if I just have romantic feelings towards Joe? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully his phone vibrating pulls him out of his reverie. He reads the message and responds before climbing out of the bed to get ready.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>***</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been dying for you to ask me out, gorgeous,” Adam drawls as he leans in, placing his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his barley tea. He places the cup back on the table and swipes his hand out, grinning as Adam’s elbows fly out from underneath him, just barely keeping his head from thumping against the table. “Can you let your big head do the thinking for once please Shindo?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam straightens up, narrowing his eyes in Cherry’s direction. “Fine. You’re using my given name and not my stage name. This is serious. What is it Kaoru?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry holds up a finger, “Firstly, don’t call me that. It’s weird. Secondly, I--” heat rushes into his cheeks as he whispers, “I need to ask you a series of questions and I need you to answer me honestly </span>
  <em>
    <span>without </span>
  </em>
  <span>making a big fucking deal about it.” This is partly why Cherry asked Adam to meet him in a cafe. He knows Adam only likes to make a scene when he’s being paid to do so. He’s rather reserved in public...some times. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam leans in again, nodding. There’s a small wrinkle between his brows that marks his concern. “What’s up? Are you okay? Did you get someone in a bad way? Am I going to be an unc--unhfff.” He glares as he reaches down to rub his knee. “That’s a valid question! You whore yourself out more than I do,” he pouts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Focus, you flamboyant queen,” Cherry hisses. “Ho-how did you know that you liked men?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam’s mouth drops open. He brings his lips together slowly, the corners of his mouth curling up in a devious smirk. “Are you asking because of one Nanjo Kojiro?” He swears again as he’s kicked in the same spot. “Fine, fine. Fuck. Christ. I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I just kind of always did. I remember being in kindergarten and wanting to play house with Akio, the cutest boy in our class,” he sighs wistfully. “And then when I was a bit older, like maybe 9, I wanted to kiss Akio, so I asked him if I could and he said yes. I didn’t want to kiss a girl until I was about 16.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry blinks at him. “I didn’t play house. Who wants to pretend to have adult responsibilities as a child? That’s pretty stupid.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam laughs softly, “Okay, so then what do you want me to tell you? That I had some mind blowing epiphany in my angsty adolescent years? I didn’t, Kaoru. I just knew that I liked boys. The same way that you know you’re attracted to women. You’ve never questioned that, have you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He makes a good point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry buys himself some time to ask the next question as he sips slowly from his drink. “What if I don’t know if it’s sexual attraction, romantic attraction, or just old feelings from a simpler time resurfacing?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does your dick get hard if you think about them in sexual situations? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Do</span>
  </em>
  <span> you think about them in sexual situations? Do you want to take them on a date? Spend alone time with them? Do you think about them constantly?” A foot flies out again, but Adam is prepared, catching Cherry’s ankle and tugging him forward. “Listen,” Adam continues, “You obviously feel some kind of way about Kojiro. And that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’s attractive. So goddamned attractive. So attractive that if I wasn’t head over heels in love with Tadashi I would consider the possibility of allowing Joe to fuck me raw, but I digress,” he gives a subtle shake of his head and continues, “My understanding of who I am and who I love is that just--mine. I can’t give you the answers that you’re looking for, because I’m not the expert in you. You are. If you like him, you like him. If you just wanna fuck him, fuck him. If you like him </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>you want to fuck him, you’ll end up in a relationship with a great guy and I for one, will be supportive of that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry softly says, “You’re useless.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome,” Adam smiles brightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>***</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He types a message and immediately deletes it to type a different one. Only he ends up deleting that one too. He sighs heavily through his nostrils, hanging his head as he laments his sudden inability to form a simple fucking sentence. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop overthinking it. You’re making it too complicated. Which should be the name of my autobiography. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He quickly types a reply and hits send before he can erase it. A text bubble appears immediately before disappearing and then reappearing for just twice as long. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Kaoru: You could have asked for my number last night&gt;&gt;</b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Joe: I didn’t think about it until last minute.&gt;&gt; </b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Joe: Kinda like someone I know ;) &gt;&gt;</b>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh you asshole,” Cherry snorts.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Kaoru: Are you ever going to let me live that down?&gt;&gt; </b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Joe: Probably not, if I’m being honest. One of my favorite pastimes was teasing you mercilessly. You’d get all flustered and pink-cheeked. It was adorable.&gt;&gt; </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Aaaaaand here he is again, getting “flustered and pink-cheeked”. Fucking Kojiro. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Kaoru: Stop that.&gt;&gt; </b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Kaoru: It’s embarrassing&gt;&gt; </b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Kaoru: And stupid&gt;&gt; </b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Kaoru: Like you&gt;&gt; </b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Joe: Oh how my heart has missed your witty banter. Although I have to say it seems like your insults have become quite watered down over the years. I’m disappointed&gt;&gt; </b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Kaoru: Would this be better? Fuck you, you knuckle dragging, over muscled gorilla?&gt;&gt; </b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Joe: Loads better you dainty, pompous, windbag :)&gt;&gt; </b>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t help but to laugh as he trades barbs with Kojiro for a while. Their ability to trade insults effortlessly and still remain close was something that Cherry loved about their friendship. But, he texted Joe for a reason, and it wasn’t to trade insults. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Kaoru: Uh, I have a weird question to ask you, but I want to ask you in person.&gt;&gt;</b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Kaoru: If that’s okay?&gt;&gt; </b>
</p><p>
  <b>&lt;&lt;Joe: Sure. I don’t have class right now. My place or yours?&gt;&gt; </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry sends Joe his address and begins to straighten up his space. He’s just finished making up his bed when there’s a knock on his door. He pulls it open and gestures for Joe to come in. “Sorry it’s so small. Not all of us have the luxury of pledging a shitty frat and living in the lap of luxury.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe drops his backpack on the floor and sits at the desk. “I can’t believe you can fit it in here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fit what?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your massive ego,” Joe grins. He quickly changes the subject, speaking out over Cherry’s colorful insults, “What’s up? What’d you want to ask?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry sits on his bed, back ramrod straight and his hands clasped in his lap. “Why did you, uh, kiss me all those years ago?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe’s head tilts slightly to the right. “You didn’t read the letter. Did you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What letter?” Cherry demands. He has a fuzzy memory of being handed an envelope by Joe. “Oh..yeah. No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe arches a brow, but his face settles into a soft grin. He rubs a hand along the back of his neck as a light pink blush glows under the apples of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. “I, uh, wrote you a letter the same day I told you I was leaving. I planned to give it to you when you came to say goodbye the next day. But you never came.” He shrugs. “Not until it was too late. So I held onto it. I don’t know why. I just did.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did it say?” Cherry cautiously asks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe’s cheeks puff out as he huffs a nervous sigh. He drags a hand through his wavy hair, lowering his eyes to the floor as he mumbles, “It’s kind of a love letter.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Cherry pulls his hair from his ear, tucking the long, pink strands behind it. “It sounded like you said it was a love letter.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe lifts his head. “I did. To answer your question, that day that you saw me kissing Hina was the first time I’d kissed anyone. I knew that she liked me and I--I had to make sure of something.” His blush intensifies as he shifts his gaze away from Cherry’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which was....” Cherry trails off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whether or not I actually liked...girls and...you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry props an elbow up on his knee and leans in. “Let me get this straight. You’re saying that you kissed Hina because you wanted to make sure of your feelings for me?” Joe nods. “So, you had feelings for me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have,” Joe corrects. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And--and what about the other thing?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh,” Joe shrugs, chuckling, “Women are pretty and soft and they always smell nice, but they just don’t do it for me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how did you figure that out?” He once again is searching for a concrete answer to what he’s labeled his quarter life crisis. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would have been much easier on me if you just read the letter Cherry Blossom,” Joe gripes. “But, I figured that out by finally kissing you. All night I couldn’t stop thinking about it and I wanted to do it again, but you were weird about it. You got all quiet and any time I looked at you, you would quickly look away and I thought you were mad at me because I kissed you so…” he trails off, shrugging a shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you been with other guys?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude. I’m genuinely confused with where this conversation is going.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry chews on his bottom lip, pondering as to whether or not to just come out and say the truth. “I--I’m not sure if I’m gay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe blinks over at him and slowly says, “Okay…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like some women. I’ve slept with quite a few actually.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, okay…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what I am or if I want to be labeled because, what if things change?” His voice creeps up higher as he succumbs to the mild panic that’s growing in his chest. “What if I say I’m one way and then I wake up fifteen years from now and I feel differently?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you really think it would take you fifteen years to figure out that you’re actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> into men?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s taken me six years to admit that I might possibly be bisexual, so fifteen years seems totally plausible.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe scratches at the back of his head. “Okay. I’m still </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> confused where this is going so…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It took you kissing me to know whether or not you had feelings for me, right?” Joe nods. There’s a slight tremor in Cherry’s voice as he asks, “So, I guess the real question I have is, can-can I kiss you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe’s sigh is heavy. “I’ve been someone’s experimental phase before Kaoru. I can’t do that again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry stammers, “I-I’m not asking because I need to make sure whether or not I’m attracted to men. I’m asking because I want to see if maybe, your feelings are...reciprocated.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span> Joe’s expression is unreadable. “You like me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t say that!” Cherry snaps, his cheeks heating up something fierce. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe stands and crosses the room, his voice low and teasing as he bends over, leaning into Cherry’s space. “You like me,” he sing-songs. He doesn’t even try to hide the smile that’s brightening his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry reaches out and places his hand in the middle of Joe’s face, pushing him away. “Shut up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe’s muffled voice sounds from behind his hand, “You wanna kiss me so bad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you, a child?!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A wet stripe against his palm has Cherry yelping as he pulls his hand away. He grimaces as he looks down at it, wiping it against the comforter. When he lifts his head again, Joe catches his chin between his thumb and forefinger. His breath hitches in his throat as his childhood best friend moves in. Their lips are a hair’s breadth apart and when Joe speaks, his lips whisper against Cherry’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Admit you have feelings for me first. That you always have and maybe, I’ll kiss you,” His voice is slightly husky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You first, asshole,” Cherry challenges in a low voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. I like you. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> been with other men before and it didn’t matter if I was deep inside of them or they were deep inside of me, all I was able to think about was it being you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry swallows thickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t have your cake and eat it too,” Joe smiles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Cherry begrudgingly admits, “I--might like you a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little bit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And maybe I have since we were 14. But you being a big dumbass and kissing me just confused me for six fucking years.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe closes the gap, pressing their mouths together in a lingering kiss that leaves Cherry’s stomach dropping and his pulse racing. He feels childish, in a way, because it’s not like Joe’s trying to tongue him down. It’s genuinely a gentle kiss, one that has him flashing back to their adolescence and reliving all of the confusing emotions he was unable to name at 14. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can name them now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Excitement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Exhilaration. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trepidation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But most importantly… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(But he'll never admit that last one to Joe.)  </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>As a teenager, Joe dreamt about the moment he’d be able to ask Cherry to be his boyfriend. Which he knows is silly, but he’s a hopeless romantic, sue him. He always pictured it being during a festival in the middle of a firework display or maybe on Christmas Day. He didn’t picture asking Cherry to be his boyfriend while he’s shirtless, his pants unbuckled, and them sitting in the middle of his bedroom just having been interrupted by their meddling friend (a term that Joe is happy to use). But, he reaches up to cup Cherry’s face and states, “We’ve been dating for a month. Soooo…” </p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tags updated to include: "they both switch"</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Cherry has been straddling his lap and kissing him for the past fifteen minutes. Which is great. It truly is. However, what’s not great is for thirteen of those fifteen minutes, he’s been so hard he’s fucking lightheaded now. And who, on the gods green earth gets a raging boner from kissing… at </span>
  <em>
    <span>TWENTY?! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe pulls away, breaking the kiss, and groaning softly when Cherry automatically follows his mouth as if their lips were magnetized. His head falls back against the wall, his eyes closing as he sucks in a deep and shaking exhale. “Gimme a minute or five,” he mumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The concern in Cherry Blossom’s voice has Joe snapping his eyes open. Which in about five minutes is going to prove to be a mistake but for now… He reaches out to finger long strands of silken pink before tucking it behind Cherry’s ear. For the past month or so, they’ve spent hours talking about their sexual orientation. Cherry had so many questions for Joe, but honestly it seemed like he needed to process his feelings and thoughts out loud. After realizing that he was bisexual, Cherry became hyperfocused on doing things “right” with Joe. Each time they did something new together, which so far had been holding hands, a few dates, and now kissing, Cherry was overly concerned with his “performance”. Joe thinks it’s adorable and endearing, but he also wants Cherry to be himself and feel comfortable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t do anything wrong babe. You never do.” His thumb trails over the blush highlighting Cherry’s cheekbones. He always gets so easily flustered when Joe calls him a pet name. “You’re perfect. So perfect in fact that I, uh…” he trails off, contemplating how to finish his sentence but Cherry does it for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re hard? Me too. God I’m so hard,” he whines. “I’ve never been this hard in my entire life. And from just kissing?” His head falls forward onto Joe’s shoulder. His voice sounds small and tight with uncertainty when he asks, “Why haven’t you tried to do more?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of the mattress shifting is the only answer Joe can offer Cherry presently. His mind races a million miles a minute as he straightens up. He’s wanted to do more for the past month but he didn’t because he wasn’t sure if the other was ready for what that meant. He turns his face to nuzzle against Cherry’s mane and asks, “Can you look at me please?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Remember that bit about five minutes proving to be the only length of time that he has to have a well thought out and concise conversation? Well, he has about a minute and a half left here.) </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry actually listens without argument and raises his head to stare down at Joe. His skin is still slightly flushed, a soft pink glow covers his beautiful face and creeps down into his neck, resting on his exposed collarbone before it disappears further into the haphazardly unbuttoned shirt he has on. His pupils dilate little by little the longer he maintains eye contact. His mouth, that wonderfully soft and pleasantly kiss swollen mouth, is parted on a soft pant. Joe has half a mind to shove that beautiful face back in the crook of his neck or better yet into the mattress so he can mou—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Kojiro?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe shakes his head a bit to clear the image and smiles softly up at his boyfriend (?). “I didn’t try to do more because I wasn’t sure if you were ready for more. We haven’t really talked about preferences in terms of positions. I’m not even sure if you know—“ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to try both,” Cherry interrupts. “So th-that way I can figure out what I really li—oomph!” The wind is knocked out of him as Joe changes their positions quickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s settled between slender denim clad thighs and looking down at the most beautiful sight in the entire world. “Do you know what you’re asking for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry rolls his eyes, his exasperation apparent as he huffs, “Yes, Kojiro. I’ve watched enough gay porn to know what I’m asking for.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kojiro can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from his chest. He claps a hand over his mouth and shakes his head in an apology. “I swear I’m not laughing at you. Okay, well actually I am. You do know that porn is like, extremely exaggerated right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh. Get off of me if you’re just going to make fun of me,” Cherry smacks at his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabs a flailing wrist in his hand and yanks Cherry up into a sitting position. They’re practically pressed flush against the other, which makes Joe’s heart skip a beat and unfortunately, his cock remind him that it’s in dire need of attention as it twitches against the zipper of his jeans. “I’m not teasing. I just need you to understand that your first time won’t be like the videos you’ve watched. There’s a lot of preparation that goes into it that’s not often shown unless you go looking for it. I don’t want to be an irresponsible lover.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you say such embarrassing things with ease?” Cherry blushes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I like you,” Joe dips his head down to punctuate the statement with a kiss to Cherry’s neck. He lightly flicks the tip of his tongue against the area he’s come to learn is highly sensitive and suppresses a smile when the man in his arms shudders. He lightly nips at the skin and sits back on his knees, pulling a panting Cherry higher into his lap. “Unzip your jeans,” he whispers. The metallic sound of a zipper being pulled through teeth has him rushing to do the same. With an arm around Cherry’s waist, Joe holds him close and unzips his own jeans with the free hand. His sigh of relief dies in his throat only to be reborn as a low, throaty moan as a trembling hand slips into his boxers to pull his cock free. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been wanting to touch you for so long,” Cherry exhales. His grip is light on Joe’s cock, long fingers easily skimming the skin of his shaft and making his length twitch with each pass. “I’ve even dreamt of touching you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe swears he’s going to go crazy if he hasn’t already. His hips rock up, seeking more friction and he’s already on the verge of an orgasm when Cherry hasn’t even properly stroked him yet. “Stop talking,” he grunts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Cherry leans forward and takes Joe’s bottom lip gently between his teeth. “If you can say embarrassing things, so can I, Kojiro.” The grip on his cock tightens and he moans softly, eyes fluttering shut as his abdomen clenches with heat. “There’s this video I’ve gotten off to for </span>
  <em>
    <span>years </span>
  </em>
  <span>just because the actor looks like you. I’ve even said your name when I climax.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe’s grip is bruising on narrow hips as Cherry whispers his name in the lewdest sounding moan. His restraint snaps (like he had any… okay he did, but come on. How long did you expect him to hold out here?) and he’s manhandling Cherry, roughly spinning him around and positioning him on all fours as he yanks down jeans and boxer briefs, exposing a perfectly rounded ass and pale muscular thighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you—“ Cherry looks over his shoulder, slightly shocked as Joe pulls up to his knees. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You started it, Cherry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Started wha—ooh. Wait wait,” he reaches back to push back on Joe’s hips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has a tight grip on Cherry’s waist as he eases his cock between warm thighs. He groans softly as his shaft slides against heavy balls and along the precum drenched underside of Kaoru’s dick. “No. Squeeze your thighs together.” Cherry nods and does as he’s told, bringing his thighs closer together. Kojiro thrusts forward slowly, purposely moving his hips at a languid pace as he withdraws, exhaling shakily as their most sensitive parts rub together. He reaches around to touch Cherry, wanting to offer him some relief, when the door is thrown open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kojiro darling. Are you busy?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck Adam?!” Cherry yells as he scrambles to cover himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their friend, a term Joe is using very loosely here, crosses the threshold and leans against the footboard of the bed. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen already,” Adam dismisses flippantly. “Besides, thigh fucking? How high school. Total throwback to my baby gay days. Oh but that’s right!” Adam claps his hands together and spins to face the pair just as they finish zipping up. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>a baby gay, aren’t you Kaoru? I’ve seen Joe in the locker room a few times so you’re absolutely right to do a lot of foreplay before trying to sit on that be—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“WHAT DO YOU WANT?!” Joe yells, cutting off Adam.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m bored,” he shrugs. “Plus my sex senses were tingling and if I’m not getting any, neither are you two.” He folds his arms over his chest with an audible pout. “Stupid Tadashi and his stupid rule about no sex before an exam. I’m wasting away,” Adam laments. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe has every intent to tear Adam a new asshole, even though he’d probably enjoy it, but Cherry beats him to the punch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” he starts as he stands to his feet, “You not only enter without knocking, but you comment on </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>boyfriend's dick and then proceed to tell us that you interrupted us because you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>bored</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>sexless</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!” Cherry stands in front of Adam hands on his hips and eyes set with a steely determined glare. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boyfriend?” Joe’s infliction in his tone sounds hopeful as he stares over at the two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aaaaaand my work here is done!” Adam does a sweeping, low curtsy as he rushes out of the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe’s brows are pinched together as he stares at a profusely blushing Cherry, who silences his question with a raised index finger as he takes off after Adam. There’s a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>thud</span>
  </em>
  <span> followed by an exaggerated wail and hushed whispers before Cherry comes back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry about that,” he huffs as he sits down on the edge of the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I want to know what happened out there?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The less you know, the better.” Cherry willfully avoids his gaze, choosing instead to focus on the bookshelf across the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, Joe doesn’t let him get away with avoiding. Not any longer. He’s learned his lesson six years ago and he’d be damned if it takes him another six years to have a conversation that they’ve both been too afraid to have. He slides from the bed to kneel in front of Cherry. “So, boyfriend?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry groans loudly as he brings his hands up to cover his face. “I was waiting for you to bring it up, but stupid Adam.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would you talk to him before talking to me?” Joe asks as he gently eases Cherry’s hands away from his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because,” he huffs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is not an answer. So, let me try again.” Joe kisses the knuckles of each finger, which only serves to make Cherry’s face match his nickname, and by the time he gets to the last pinky, Cherry is calmer, yet still incredibly red. “Why didn’t you talk to me about our relationship?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know how to. I’ve never really...had one. And I was telling Adam how I wanted to do all of this stuff with you like--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like what?” Joe can’t help but interrupt thanks to his excitement at Cherry finally sharing his feelings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like.. go on dates, like we already have. And… you spend the night, which you already have. And you know… the sex stuff.” His voice has become smaller with embarrassment.  “And Adam pointed out that I basically want you as my boyfriend and I freaked out on him because I’ve never had a relationship that lasted longer than like four hours. Soooo…” Cherry trails off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As a teenager, Joe dreamt about the moment he’d be able to ask Cherry to be his boyfriend. Which he knows is silly, but he’s a hopeless romantic, sue him. He always pictured it being during a festival in the middle of a firework display or maybe on Christmas Day. He didn’t picture asking Cherry to be his boyfriend while he’s shirtless, his pants unbuckled, and them sitting in the middle of his bedroom just having been interrupted by their meddling friend (a term that Joe is happy to use). But, he reaches up to cup Cherry’s face and states, “We’ve been dating for a month. Soooo…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pause. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows that’s not asking Cherry to officially be his boyfriend, but maybe he has cold feet and maybe he’s afraid of rejection. Yes, rejection. Even though he just had his dick between Cherry’s thighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you asking me or telling me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now it’s his turn to blush. “Cherry--” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Don’t be so formal. And definitely don’t use my nickname. Ew.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe rolls his eyes and suppresses a laugh, but continues, “I like you. A lot. Be mine?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your what?” Cherry teases. He yelps loudly as he’s pulled by the ankle onto Joe’s lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My boyfriend. My significant other. My partner. My other half. My lover.” Cherry hides his face in Joe’s neck again and after what seems like an eternity, but was only like five seconds, he nods. “Only took you six years to admit that we’ve been in a relationship since we were kids.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’ve just ruined a wonderful moment,” Cherry mumbles before biting down on Joe’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’ve just started another one,” he groans as he rocks his hips forward, nudging his erection against Cherry’s crotch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Adam peeks his head in again, giggling as he observes, “And you guys should really learn to lock your door.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, it’s Joe who gently sits Cherry on the bed, looks at him apologetically, and takes off after Adam, chasing him through the halls of their frat house with a wide grin. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>His heart thunders in his chest, and maybe it’s this feeling--this feeling of falling although his feet are firmly planted on the ground--that steals his breath away, but whatever this is, it leaves him lightheaded and dizzy.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I realize that as I was writing this, I was writing as if Kaoru was having sex for the first time. While he’s bisexual in this story, it is his first time with a man and with Joe. </p><p>Also yes... in my brain thumb sucker = oral fixation = good at sucking dick lol</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Cherry can swear he feels the music in his bones. Each time the beat drops, the bass rattles through the floor and up into his body, making his skin pimple with goosebumps and his body hair stand on end. He used to be extremely nervous and stand-offish in social interactions, but being around Joe again has him feeling more relaxed and at ease. Don’t get him wrong, he’s still stand-offish because he doesn’t too much care for people outside of his small circle, but being at a party nearly every weekend with his boyfriend has definitely helped him to get accustomed to the raucous atmosphere of the frat house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today’s party has a theme-- important figures in history (go figure)-- and requires a costume or some type of casual costume for entry. Which means a lot of the girls swept their up into messy buns, donned white lab coats and fake glasses, and pretended to be Madam Curie. To which Cherry scoffs because there’s no way in hell Madam Curie would have conducted her experiments, which included the use of caustic and corrosive materials, with her tits practically swinging free. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He should be used to the attention that his boyfriend garners by now, but he isn't. And try as he might, he can’t find it in himself to not be upset when some big breasted bimbo presses her tits into Kojiro’s arm or side and bats cheap beauty supply faux eyelashes up at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least go to an actual esthetician or make sure your lashes aren't lifting before you try and flirt with my boyfriend,” he snaps at the fifth woman who squeezes her way between them to press into Kojiro. She gives a haughty huff and sneers at him, to which he replies, “I wouldn’t exhale too heavily like that. One misplaced breath and those five dollar lashes will go flying into the nearest drink.” He smirks and wiggles his fingers in a goodbye as the woman turns and leaves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously, love?” Kojiro snorts. He tosses an arm over Cherry’s shoulder and draws the man close into his side. “You know I only have eyes for you,” he whispers, directly into Cherry’s ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which wouldn’t be a problem, had the asshole not discovered a few weeks ago that his ear is an erogenous zone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry smacks Kojiro’s shoulder multiple times in quick succession, attempting to pull away, but is thwarted by strong arms that move from his shoulder to wrap around his waist, pulling him flush against a bare chest and a makeshift loincloth that’s extremely low slung on his hips (his idiot insisted on being Tarzan and wouldn’t change his mind once Cherry pointed out that important figures in history should </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> include semi-fictional characters). “Cut it out,” Cherry hisses, but he doesn’t make any motion to pull away from the warmth of Joe’s body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe’s breath is warm, smelling slightly of the mint toothpaste he uses and the shots of tequila they downed a few minutes ago as it fans, once again, against Cherry’s mouth while on the path to whisper in his ear, ”Dance with me, yeah?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s learned in the past few months that when Kojiro wants to be, he’s really persuasive. Or maybe Cherry is just easy. Probably he’s just easy. But, can anyone blame him? Kojiro literally looks as if the gods sculpted him from marble, with their bare hands, on the holiest of holy days, and then went back and was like, “For added measure let’s make his dick </span>
  <em>
    <span>massive</span>
  </em>
  <span> and his personality amazing as hell. Why the fuck not!?” Who wouldn’t be easy around him? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry melts into his touch and nods, breathing out, “Okay,” as he’s led to the makeshift dance floor. He’s fully prepared for Joe to try some foolish new viral dance he’s learned on social media, so he braces himself for it. However, he’s spun around so his back is pressed into Joe’s chest. Hands slide around to his hips, fingers lingering on the little sliver of skin that’s exposed between the white lace bustier and white tu-tu (Madonna’s ‘Like A Virgin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> historical, okay?!), causing him to reflexively shiver. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I really love this outfit on you,” Joe whispers. “You look like such a cute, little virginal saint. But what drives me wild is that I know just how much of a filthy sinner you actually are.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closes his eyes, sucking in a deep steadying breath and willing his heart to slow enough for him to actually catch his breath and form coherent speech. “Bastard.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not my fault I accidentally stumbled upon your degradation kink,” Joe hums softly. His lips brush against Cherry’s neck as they sway together. “Who knew yelling at you in the middle of an argument would end with you sucking the soul out of my body?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tilts his head back to stare up at Joe. The alcohol is settling nicely, making the room a little hazy and out of focus, but even so, Joe is still clear, despite the soft and lazy edges of his vision. “That was my first time sucking dick too,” he proudly states. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> a thumb sucker for the first ten years of your life. Makes sense you know how to give the best blow jobs I’ve ever received. Now,” his hands slide up from Kaoru’s hips, lightly skirting around the front of his flared skirt and between his pecs to stroke his throat, “We just have to train you so you don’t gag as much when I fuck your throat.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jesus fucking Christ,” Cherry whimpers.  “What’s gotten into you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing...yet. But I’m hoping you will soon,” Joe softly replies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The conversation ends when scorching lips touch the nape of Cherry’s neck, sending an electric current rushing through his skin and another shiver coursing throughout his entire body. Joe has the ability to make him fall silent with one touch, one kiss, one look, and even though he profusely said that he hates it, he loves that even after all of these years, Joe is the one that knows him best. Alcohol sweetened lips dance across the back of his neck to his earlobe and before Joe can ask, Cherry is tilting his head back and to the side to kiss him. The kiss is heated, passion rolling from them both in thick waves that obscure the dance floor and provide the illusion that they’re the only two in the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry will later say it was the discomfort from the angle of his neck that led to him turning around to press his lithe body flush against Joe’s, but in all actuality, he just needs to be closer to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that’s okay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe’s hand comes to the back of his head while the other squeezes at his waist, holding their hips tautly together. Cherry allows himself the space to melt into the touch, wrapping his arms around Joe’s neck and exhaling a soft contented sigh that has the slightest whisper of building arousal. A tequila soaked tongue takes advantage of Cherry’s lowered defenses and eases across his parted lips. His heart thunders in his chest, and maybe it’s this feeling--this feeling of falling although his feet are firmly planted on the ground--that steals his breath away, but whatever this is, it leaves him lightheaded and dizzy. Their lips mold together perfectly as if they’re made to slot together and Cherry wonders if maybe they are. Maybe fate or destiny or whatever you want to call it, is responsible for them being neighbors as kids and, after six years of no communication, winding up at the same college with a mutual friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You here with me?” Joe whispers against his mouth, breaking up his thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods once, followed by an extremely quiet, so quiet that he’s afraid Joe won’t be able to hear him and that he won’t have the courage to repeat himself if his boyfriend didn’t, “I’m-I’m ready.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His rush of breath sounds labored as Joe fully breaks the kiss to bring their foreheads together. “Are you sure?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The question he’s been asking himself for a while now. Joe has been a patient teacher, insisting that there is no rush for them to move from kissing and heavy petting, to more intense sexual acts. He’s grateful for them taking things slow, despite the urge to dive head first into new and uncharted waters without a life jacket, but now, it feels...right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So instead of speaking his assent, he takes Joe’s hand and pushes past the frat brothers that he’s grown to somewhat like. He doesn’t pay attention to the girls with too much makeup and perfume who have been eye-fucking Joe all night along. He focuses on the warmth of the fingers that are threaded through his own and the loud thumping of his heart against his ribcage as he climbs the short flight of stairs and to lead them to Joe’s room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the door closes behind them, he tells himself that he left all of the nervousness and anxiety he feels on the dance floor. He left the hesitation and the fear of not performing well on the other side of the door, but the moment Joe’s hands are on him again, those same feelings come slamming back into him with a vengeance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, can we--,” he starts, but he’s not surprised that he doesn’t need to finish asking if they can take things slow, because Joe stops to stare at him and in the reflection of beautiful honey red eyes, Cherry recognizes the same feelings of nervousness, anxiety, hesitation, and fear. Knowing he’s not alone in feeling this way makes him swallow the rest of his statement to ask, “Do you really want me to...y’know…?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re asking if I want you inside of me, the answer is yes.” Joe brushes the bangs out of Cherry’s face and allows his fingertips to lightly trail along his jawline. “Only if you want to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eagerly, maybe a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> eagerly, Cherry rushes out, “Of course I want to. It’s all I’ve thought about, but,” his voice shakes as he questions, “what if I’m not good at it? What if I hurt you or it doesn’t feel good for you?” His eyebrows come together as he meets Joe’s gaze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe’s smile is soft and reassuring as he leads Cherry to his bed. “Then I’ll let you know if something doesn’t feel good or if something hurts. I won’t leave you wondering whether or not you’ve pleased me.” He lightly pushes at bare shoulders and watches as Cherry falls to the bed and quickly settles with his back against the wall.  “And I hope you’ll do the same for me. Tell me what you like.” Joe tugs at the leather straps on his hips, causing the makeshift loin cloth to hang lopsided from the other hip. “Tell me what you don’t like.” He unties the other side, but instead of allowing it to fall, he holds it in place as he stares down at Cherry. “I want to know your body better than I know my own.” The bed dips under the weight as Joe places his hands on the edge, followed by his left knee, until he’s crawling across the short width to kneel in front of Cherry. “I’ll go slow, okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry’s voice is non-existent, his usual quick wit and stinging quips having melted away under the intensity of this moment. His head bows forward in a nod as anticipation floods his system, causing his senses to overload. He reflexively jolts when Joe’s hand slides up his leg, pushing the skirt higher and higher until the pale of his upper thighs is visible. “I can take off the skirt,” he finally manages to speak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe tucks a loose curl behind his ear and with a smirk brightening his face he states, “I’d prefer you didn’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry opens his mouth to object but as the skirt is bunched around his waist, Joe leans forward to lick a long, slow stripe along his boxer-brief clad cock. He inhales sharply, his hips easily rocking up to meet Joe’s mouth as his head falls back against the wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have such a pretty cock,” Joe murmurs. He pulls down the underwear just enough to allow access to the tip. He gazes up at Cherry, keeping his eyes trained on the other as he sticks out his tongue to slowly slide over the head. He reaches his hand inside the boxers to lightly run his finger along the underside of the shaft and after a few lazy drags, he pulls down the boxers to free Cherry’s cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry’s hands tangle in the sheets, a moan tumbling from his lips as he watches Joe widen his mouth and fully take his cock to the hilt. “Wait, wait.” He places a hand on Joe’s head in a misguided attempt to stop him, which does work in a sense. However, when Joe hollows his cheeks and works his tongue along the length without moving his head, Cherry realizes his fight is in vain. The warmth of his boyfriends mouth coupled with the obscene way Joe watches him is enough for him to grip green curls and canter his hips up, groaning as he can feel the head of his cock slide past the hard roof of Joe’s mouth to nudge against the soft palate of his upper jaw. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just when he can feel the heat in his core build to a white hot intensity, Joe pulls up and swipes at his mouth with his fingers. He climbs up to his knees and straddles Cherry’s waist, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady himself as he reaches back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can help. I-I want to do it,” Cherry insists. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe’s eyes fall shut and his head drops forward, exhaling a shaky sigh as his body shudders. Something falls to the bed and before Cherry can inquire, Joe informs him, “Next time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you earlier that I wanted you inside of me, so yeah.” A light blush highlights the apples of his cheeks as he stares down at Cherry. Seeing Joe like this—vulnerable and so exposed—makes Cherry’s heart skip a beat. He reaches out to caress his lover's cheek, moving his hand around the nape of his neck to finger at the mess of green hair. “Ready?” Joe whispers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe takes his hands and places them on his ass. “Guide me, okay? If I move too fast, slow me down.” He reaches between them, lightly holding Cherry’s sensitive and twitching cock in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry keeps his eyes trained on Joe’s face, completely enthralled by the heaviness of his lids, the flush to his cheeks, the slight wrinkle between pinched brows, and the way his lips have fallen open slightly. The only thought that comes to mind is how gorgeous the man is and he begins to mention as much, but words fail him when the head of his cock kisses Joe’s stretched and softened rim. Heat slowly engulfs him, causing his fingers to flex and grip muscular flesh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods emphatically. “Keep going.” It’s ridiculous for him to be this nervous; he’s not a virgin after all, but in a sense, it is his first time with Joe and he doesn’t want to mess up. He doesn’t linger on the thoughts for long due to the warm breath that fans across his face and the slight whimper as Joe lowers himself onto Cherry’s cock. Hearing the pleasured sound has some of his confidence filtering back in and he tightens his grip on Joe’s ass, holding him steady as he rolls his hips up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said you wanted me to go slow,” Joe gasps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,” Cherry agrees. He dips his head and kisses along Joe’s collar bone, gently sucking on the skin. He stifles his moan against the clavicle once Joe is fully seated on his cock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re both breathing heavily, hands clinging tightly to the other as they try and catch their breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sex has always just been sex to Cherry. Nothing that requires deep and meaningful feelings. Until Joe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew from the moment he kissed Kojiro, that he’d be drowning in the intensity of his feelings. Despite his lived experiences, everything with Joe felt like the first time to Cherry. Every kiss, every hug, every stupid good morning texts and sleepily whispered goodnight call. Every touch had him feeling like this was all new to him, as if he were on the cusp of discovering another wonder of the world. Everything they did together had immense meaning and this wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>just sex</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe rides him in earnest, rolling up to the balls of his feet as he rocks his hips forward. Each motion sends waves of pleasure coursing through Cherry’s body as insides tighten around him, squeezing him tightly with each rise and fall of Joe’s hips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is so much more to him. Joe is so much more to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you,” Cherry manages to whisper in between their dual sounds of pleasure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Joe whines loudly. “Don’t tell me that right now.” He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and closes his eyes tightly as he concentrates. His cock twitches against the bunched up material of the skirt, his hole tightening around Cherry’s cock when he states again, definitively as if these three words are the solution to all problems, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you.” Joe’s hand covers his mouth and he can’t help but laugh and tease a little bit. I mean, come on, it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“How come I can’t say I love y—“ He inhales a sharp breath that rolls into a loud moan as Joe’s easy pace becomes slightly more rushed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Joe is certain Cherry won’t continue on in the same vein, his hand is replaced with his lips. His arms encircle Cherry’s neck, his fingers digging into shoulder blades as his pace increases. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry’s hips rise to meet Joe’s and any teasing banter is long forgotten. He keeps a tight grip on Joe’s hips, pulling him forward as he thrusts inside of him. Pleasure licks at his nerves, setting them ablaze as a delicious pressure builds in his middle. Joe’s quiet way of moaning Cherry’s given name, like it was sacred, is enough to push him to the tipping point. He breaks the kiss to bury his face in the crook of Joe’s neck, expletives peppered throughout his moans as he unloads deep inside of his boyfriend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe soon follows suit, his spend landing on the lace bodice of Cherry’s bustier. He rests his head on Cherry’s shoulder, deeply inhaling. “Why now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry stops running small circles into Joe’s lower back. His eyebrows furrow as he hums a quizzical, “Hmm?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Talking about your feelings is like pulling teeth. You’re not forthcoming with your emotions, which is fine because you show it in other ways. But why now?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry’s instinct is to snap out, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Why not now?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> but instead he takes a deep breath and decides to do something he should have done when they were 14. “When we were young, I knew then. That I-that I loved you. Who wouldn’t? And before I inevitably try to push you away, I want you to know the truth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe lifts his head to stare down at Cherry. “But during sex?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry rolls his eyes and sighs loudly before admitting, “Sex never meant anything to me,” he pauses, grimacing slightly as his skin smolders when he mumbles, “until you. Everything feels—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“—New?”’Joe finishes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. And a little scary for me. I haven’t...had a…” he trails off, muttering again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously?” Joe’s shock is written all over his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I’ve never wanted one. So all of this is new to me, but I do...love you.” He looks away from Joe. His eyes narrow subtly as he looks back up at his blushing boyfriend. “You didn’t want me to say it because…” he trails off waiting for Joe to fill in the blank. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joe sighs loudly and scrunches his face up in disapproval at his willingness in sharing the truth. “I wanted to be the first to say it and...it really turned me on.” His face smooths out as the last piece of some unknown puzzle falls into place. He gasps softly, eyes widening as he questions, “You think I don’t last long?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cherry blinks up at him. “In all fairness, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>didn’t last long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“True, true. Hey!” Joe smirks at him, “Wanna go again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, yes.” Cherry manages to get Joe onto his back. He holds the base of his cock and rubs the head teasingly along Joe’s hole. “Say it back.” He slowly pushes forward, watching Joe’s face contort in pleasure as he’s slowly filled. The sharp inhale of breath and the arch in Joe’s back has Cherry gritting his teeth, but somehow he manages to whisper, “Say it back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck. I love you, Kaoru. So much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time is more relaxed, more passionate, as the tension of six years worth of unspoken feelings has finally dissipated.</span>
</p>
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